(no subject)
I find today astonishingly, grayingly depressing. It is not even 10 a.m., and already I've seen the cops harass two impoverished, possibly homeless black men, for no immediately clear reason. One of the cops got on a packed train to force the sleeping man off. No one, including me, said anything at all. He was just sleeping, for Christ's sake. Christ would have let him sleep. He was harming no one. He didn't even stink! Merry Christmas, except that you don't count, because you don't have the wherewithal to care for yourself. Merry Christmas, unless you're the poor, the hungry, the illegal. Merry Christmas, unless you can't join the millions of shoppers spending billions of dollars.
I think I have to leave Chicago. I can feel it falling apart around me. The CTA can't get people anywhere much, anymore. Since last week, every day but 2 I've been late to work because of CTA stoppages. I didn't make it to trapeze class last night, because the red line just wasn't running. Last night after I managed to catch a bus, the driver shut the doors on a woman, pinching her body. She burst into angry tears.
There is no humor here now, and no joy at all. There is no cause for joy. I think most of us don't really love anybody or anything anymore. We certainly don't take care of each other. Every man for himself, and don't let anyone in even the slightest, because this wretched place will flood in.
The experiment works, by the way. When someone asks you how you are, if you say, no matter what your day is like, "Couldn't be better!" it changes things. It changes you, just a little. Gives you courage. It changes the other person, too, a little bit, perks them up, surprises them.
I figure at this point there are two options. Fight or flight. But those of you, you lucky few, who read this...whaddya say? What say we hold the doors for people? What say we do the tiny thoughtful things for each other that make people smile just a little bit? Because I can't live in this lame-ass town anymore if it's going to be like this. And me, all on my own...I'll just discouraged. And I don't feel like fucking giving up.
This is a new kind of Class Revolution I'm advocating, here. A return to class, as in classiness, as in "she's a real classy broad". A return to generosity of spirit, where we can feel like we CAN give a little of ourselves, just a teensy, to those around us, because we've got plenty where that came from. Because I think we do. We're just out of practice.
I think I have to leave Chicago. I can feel it falling apart around me. The CTA can't get people anywhere much, anymore. Since last week, every day but 2 I've been late to work because of CTA stoppages. I didn't make it to trapeze class last night, because the red line just wasn't running. Last night after I managed to catch a bus, the driver shut the doors on a woman, pinching her body. She burst into angry tears.
There is no humor here now, and no joy at all. There is no cause for joy. I think most of us don't really love anybody or anything anymore. We certainly don't take care of each other. Every man for himself, and don't let anyone in even the slightest, because this wretched place will flood in.
The experiment works, by the way. When someone asks you how you are, if you say, no matter what your day is like, "Couldn't be better!" it changes things. It changes you, just a little. Gives you courage. It changes the other person, too, a little bit, perks them up, surprises them.
I figure at this point there are two options. Fight or flight. But those of you, you lucky few, who read this...whaddya say? What say we hold the doors for people? What say we do the tiny thoughtful things for each other that make people smile just a little bit? Because I can't live in this lame-ass town anymore if it's going to be like this. And me, all on my own...I'll just discouraged. And I don't feel like fucking giving up.
This is a new kind of Class Revolution I'm advocating, here. A return to class, as in classiness, as in "she's a real classy broad". A return to generosity of spirit, where we can feel like we CAN give a little of ourselves, just a teensy, to those around us, because we've got plenty where that came from. Because I think we do. We're just out of practice.